Not Another 'Phantom' Fic
by superdave
Summary: Andrew Lloyd Weber's undying classic takes a fairly... interesting twist. Things stay normal until the 'Opera Ghost' ditches his 'Christine' to 'Raoul' in favor of the conductor. Who knows where this strange tale will end? T for safetyBBRae and StarRob
1. Overture

I'm at it again. Maybe this one will actually come to something. Or maybe it's just my insane, inane musings. Ah, well. Introspection was never my strong point.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, and I CERTAINLY don't own Andrew Lloyd Weber's _Phantom of the Opera _or Terry Pratchett's_ Maskerade_. I'd be honored to own a ticket to see _Phantom_ again.

Not Another 'Phantom' Fic

Things were always looking up, looking down for a certain Mr. Wilson. He was tall and thin, but not in a good way; his body shape often put people in mind of a spider. He had had a wonderful wife, but she went crazy. His son had joined a street gang, and Mr. Wilson hadn't seen him in years. His daughter was faithful to him, but she was off at Oxford. So, to occupy himself, Mr. Wilson decided to take up a hobby. Some would have decided to make models, others would have picked golf. Heck, some would have chosen to write inane stories about fictional people. But none of that was good enough for Mr. Wilson. He chose opera. Not performing, and not just being a patron. He bought an opera house.

Now, for those of us with something of an 'omniscient' point of view, and a look at various fictional accounts, buying an opera house is the LAST thing one wants to do. At the very least, you're going to lose money and gain a lot of headaches. Unfortunately for our Mr. Wilson, he picked a haunted Opera House in Jump City. Go figure.

Mr. Wilson strode calmly into his new Opera House. A tall, broad shouldered man grinned at his appearance. Victor Stone, Wilson's business partner.

"Well, Monsieur Wilson," Victor grinned, "It appears that you've picked a keeper."

Wilson scowled at his partner. "Mister Stone. I will thank you not to offer your opinion unless it is requested. Now, let's see what we've gotten ourselves into."

Stone, thoroughly cowed, trailed behind Mr. Wilson, who headed into the main auditorium. A pair of harried old men scurried up to the pair.

"Ah, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Stone! Please, accept our apologies, but we must be on our way!"

"Yes, yes! We've got to… ah… _Dammit, Andre, what was our excuse again?_"

"_You were supposed to come up with the excuse, __Firmin_"

"Ah… we've got to… meet our wives for a flight to Tokyo! Yes, that's it!"

The two men pushed past them, almost making it to the door.

"MONSIEURS!"

A purple-haired woman in her twenties was striding up the aisle. "Monsieurs, you're not leaving without taking Mr. Wilson and telling him exactly what's going on here!"

Firmin and Andre groaned. "Yes, Madam Roth," they chorused, taking Mr. Wilson by the arm.

Madam Roth turned to Victor. "Ah, you must be Victor Stone. Come. You'll need to meet our 'Prima Donna', Mistress Markov." She rolled her eyes, and then led Stone back down the aisle. "I am the conductor of the orchestra and the ballet mistress, Rachel Roth. Madam Roth will suffice."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Really now, Rachel. I was hoping to be on first-name basis with the staff."

"Madam Roth. Not Rachel and God forbid you call me Rae." The coldness in her voice clammed Victor up tight. "I'm afraid, Mr. Stone, that there's a small thing that Firmin and Andre didn't mention. This is a haunted Opera House." Stone snorted. "I wasn't kidding. We've got an Opera Ghost."

Stone shrugged. "Just a ghost, right?"

Rachel returned the shrug. "Who knows?"

The pair finally reached the stage, where a thin blonde was yelling at the stagehands. "Mistress Markov! _TARA!_" That shut the raging blonde up. "This is one of the new bosses, Mr. Victor Stone. You will treat him with respect, or else."

Tara rolled her eyes at Rachel. "Whatever. I'm the star here, not you, Gothy."

Rachel glared. "Shut it."

Stone nodded towards a slender, but not overly thin, redheaded girl, who was chatting and giggling with a short, pink-haired girl. "Who's she?"

Rachel glanced over. "Ah, Kori Anders, one of our choir girls. She's got quite a voice. Her friend is Jennifer Jenkins, or Jinx, as she prefers."

"You're doing _Hannibal_, right? Let's hear Miss Markov sing the '_Think of Me_' aria."

Tara looked smug, and then squealed in fear when a sandbag dropped next to her. Victor and Rachel glanced up in time to see a green shape flit out of view.

"THE GHOST!" Victor and Rachel looked around as the choir picked up Markov's scream. Tara herself fainted.

"Everyone calm down." Seeing no one paying her heed, Rachel took a slow breath, let it out, and then screamed, "QUIET!" Everyone shut up. "Now then, Tara, how about Mr. Stone's overture?"

Unfortunately, Tara was unconscious. Victor thought for a moment. "Well, does anyone else know the part?"

"Ooh, ooh! Kori does!" Jinx was waving her hand in the air wildly.

Rachel folded her arms. "Well, out with it, girl."

Sighing, Kori took in a breath, and then began singing.

"_Think of me, think of me fondly,_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me, once in awhile,_

_Please promise me you'll try-"_

Victor gasped. "She's amazing! She'll take Markov's part tonight."

"Mr. Stone, are you sure?" Victor nodded vigorously. "Very well. Kori, head to wardrobe and makeup. You've got to get ready."

Mr. Wilson sighed as he waved Andre and Firmin off. Turning back to the Opera House, he was surprised by Victor's grinning visage in front of him. "We've got our first real star."

Kori stood on the stage, garbed in a splendid white dress. Taking in a deep breath, she began to sing the aria. The audience reacted very favorably. They obviously approved of this new lead soprano.

Two individuals took particular interest in the singer. One sat in Box One. Richard Grayson was astounded.

_"Can it be? Can it be Kori?_

_Bravo!_

_What a change! You're really not a bit,_

_The naïve girl that once you were_

_She may not remember me,_

_But I remember her!"_

The other impressed observer sat behind the curtains of Box Eight. The Opera Ghost, a few shades greener than his more famous counterpart, was proud, not to mention infatuated. "Ah, Kori. You'll be mine."

Kori bowed to the applause, and then hurried off to the small chapel of the Opera House.

Rachel clapped her hands twice. "A good performance tonight, girls! But we must practice!"

Amidst the groaning of the ballet company, Jinx slipped away to find her friend.

The Opera Ghost sat on a gargoyle on the roof, swinging his legs absently. "Kori… Beautiful, talented, intelligent… But things feel… odd…" He raised a gloved hand to his face and pulled the white half-mask from his face, revealing the green underneath. Swiping his brow, he smeared the makeup that covered the rest of his face, revealing even more emerald skin. Garfield didn't know why he didn't simply cover his entire face in makeup. 'Morphic resonance' was a term that never occurred to the green man.


	2. A Green Angel?

Well, I don't know if I just haven't been receiving the reviews, or you guys aren't reviewing, but that's not going to stop me this time. Chapter two of 'Not another Phantom Fic' is coming your way!

The obligatory disclaimer: I forgot to mention that I also didn't own Gaston Leroux's original story. Still don't own Andrew Lloyd Webber's version, or Terry Pratchett's _Maskerade_, which is a very good book based on _Phantom_.

_Not Another Phantom Fic:_

'A Green Angel?'

Jinx hurried down a stone hallway to a heavy wooden door. She grinned as she heard the faint sound of singing from behind it. Deciding to be clever, she sang right back.

_'Where in the world have you been hiding?_

_Really, you were perfect._

_I only wish I knew your secret._

_Who is this new tutor?'_

After a few moments, the door creaked open, and Kori poked her head out. "Jennifer! Come in, quickly."

Jinx scowled as Kori ushered her in. She hated being called by her full name. Once her friend had closed the door, the pink-haired dancer spun to face her.

"Well? Out with it, girl! What's up?"

Kori stared at her feet. How was she supposed to explain this to her friend? "Well, you see, Jen, something amazing has happened. You know my father died some time ago, and that he was very superstitious about his music. He told me a story… one that I'll never forget."

_'Father once spoke of an angel,_

_I used to dream he'd appear._

_Now as I sing I can sense him,_

_And I know he's here.'_

Jinx had nodded throughout Kori's story, but now she furrowed her brow. "Wait, what?"

"It's true! Right here, in this room, and in my dressing room, he calls me. He's hiding somewhere. Somehow, I get the feeling he's always with me. Some kind of unseen genius." Kori sat down, the magnitude of what she had said hitting her full-force. Jinx sat next to her, taking Kori's hand in both of hers. The dancer decided singing would calm her down.

_'Kori, you must have been dreaming,_

_Stories like this can't come true._

_Kori, you're talking in riddles,_

_And it's not like you.'_

Kori shook her head. "It's really the Angel of Music, my guide and guardian! He's granting me his glory."

"But who is this 'Angel', anyway?"

"I don't know! Hide no longer, Angel!" Kori shuddered. "He's here, even now…"

Jinx took her hands again. "Your hands are cold!"

"He's all around… It frightens me."

"Oh, don't be frightened. C'mon, back to the-"

Rachel's voice cut her off. "JENNIFER! Back to practice, now!" Turning to Kori, the conductor/ballet mistress curtsied. "My apologies, Miss Anders, but she needs to practice." Kori nodded numbly, and then headed back to her dressing room.

Richard chuckled at a joke Victor had just told, though he hadn't really been paying attention. He, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Stone had been having a conversation about the night's show, namely Ms. Kori Anders. Mr. Wilson glared at Victor.

"Mr. Stone, you will refrain from such UNhumorous jokes while on duty, ESPECIALLY when associating with such kind patrons as Monsieur Grayson." Richard blanched.

"No, no, it's quite all right, Mr. Wilson!" Victor shot him a look of thanks, which Richard acknowledged with a slight nod. "Now, would one of you be so kind as to show me to the dressing room of Miss Anders?"

Victor stood up and beckoned for Richard to follow him. "So, you have a crush on Kori, I take it? No need to deny it, I do too." He chuckled.

Richard gave him a flat stare. "She's an old childhood friend of mine." Victor winced.

"Ah, y'know, I was just kidding, aye? Just ribbin' ya. Please don't tell Mr. Wilson."

Richard chuckled. "Don't worry, Mr. Stone, I won't tell on you. Now, let's hurry to Miss Anders, shall we?"

Victor nodded. "So, old childhood friend? Sounds fun. How'd you two meet?"

"Well, Kori's from a tiny island called Tamaran. She moved to Jump when she was very young, and we got to know each other in school. And before you ask, no, we never dated. I took her to our senior prom because I dumped my date and her date dumped her. That was it. We went as friends, though I might have wanted us to be a little more." He muttered this last part.

Victor blinked. "Whoa. I was looking for a 'Yeah, we met in school' kinda answer, not your version of _Sense and Sensibility._ Not that I really mind, though. It's cool. Ah, I guess we're here."

Richard nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Stone. I'll see you around." The heir knocked on Kori's door, but was surprised to receive no answer.

Richard had taken to pacing in front of Kori's dressing room, obviously agitated by something. Namely, the fact that Kori wasn't in her room. The young heir had wanted to ask his childhood friend out on a dinner date. He snorted. "That is, if she even remembers me…"

Kori stopped dead at the end of the hallway. A familiar stranger was in front of her room. The young singer blinked. "No, it couldn't be… Richard?"

Richard grinned at Kori's voice. "Kori… It's been so long… How about we head out for dinner, catch up?" Kori nodded vigorously.

"Just let me change!" She bustled into her dressing room while Richard left to tell his driver what they were doing. Neither realized that the Opera Ghost, or Phantom, or Angel, or what have you, had been watching them. Garfield was livid as he moved into the secret passage to Kori's room.

_'Insolent boy, this slave of passion,_

_Basking in your glory._

_Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor,_

_Sharing in my triumph!'_

Kori looked up, shocked. The voice of the Angel was speaking to her, echoing through the walls and into her room! She looked around. "Angel, I hear you, and I'm listening! Please, stay with me and guide me! I was weak, forgive me! Master, could you… enter, perhaps?"

Garfield grinned behind the mirror.

_'Flattering child, you shall know me,_

_See why in darkness I hide._

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside!'_

Kori gasped as the mirror slowly became transparent, revealing Garfield. "Angel! You are my guide and guardian, and you have revealed your glory to me!

_Angel of Music, hide no longer,_

_Come to me, strange Angel!'_

Garfield's grin widened. He had her now. "I am your Angel, so come to me."

Richard had returned in time to hear that. "Whose is that voice? Who is that in there?"

"Come to the Angel!" Garfield offered Kori his hand. Kori slowly stepped towards him, hesitating slightly at Richard's voice. Then she took the Angel's hand, and the Phantom of the Opera pulled her into his hidden passage and closed the door.

At that moment, Richard finally managed to get the door to the room open. "Christine! Angel!" But of course, the room was empty. After all, what kind of story would this be if the hero caught the 'villain' in the first act?

Well, there it is, you lucky readers you. Maybe this time you'd be kind enough to review? Thanks to those who read the first chapter and put it on their story alert list, though. Just… click that little purple button, would you? I'm starved for attention…


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